


Buttons' House

by alexmercer



Category: Ghosts (TV 2019)
Genre: Button House (Ghosts TV 2019), Cap is a cat person, Fun, Gen, Humor, One Shot, Originally Posted on Tumblr, Pets, Short One Shot, all this really is is some good old-fashioned shenanigans, i'll be honest i've got no clue how to tag this but here we are!, poor Humphrey is allergic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-03
Updated: 2021-03-03
Packaged: 2021-03-16 05:46:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,696
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29820294
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alexmercer/pseuds/alexmercer
Summary: When a stray cat follows the Captain inside after his morning run, the residents of Button House quickly become very attached to it.(Originally posted to my Tumblr.)
Relationships: Alison & Button House Ghosts (Ghosts TV 2019)
Comments: 3
Kudos: 36





	Buttons' House

Alison and Mike Cooper had never intended to adopt a cat. After all, Button House was already full to bursting, what with the both of them, eight ghosts living in the main house, an entire village of plague victims in the basement, and the ghost of a pesky pigeon courtesy of their neighbour’s dog. Simply put, there was not enough space to add any more family members to Button House.

So the cat had taken it upon itself to move in.

It had started one morning while Button House was going through its usual morning routine. Alison had woken up, checked the bathroom for ghosts so that Mike could use it without fear, then started the stopwatch for the Captain’s run before putting on a record for Thomas to do his morning dance to. She had filled in a few words on Robin’s crossword, set up Pong for Julian, and put on a classic football match for Pat. In the next room, she had helped Mary with her phonics work, turned to the next page in Kitty and Fanny’s book, and then done the same for Humphrey (or rather, Humphrey’s head – god only knew where his body was). She had arrived downstairs in two minutes and thirty seconds to open the door for the Captain to run in, perfectly timed.

Everything was the same as usual.

“Two minutes thirty, Cap,” Alison said, stopping the timer. “Same as always.”

“Blast,” the Captain said frustratedly. “Are you quite certain of it, Alison? I could have sworn I shaved off a second or two, I really pushed myself on that last corner.”

She shrugged apologetically. “Sorry. I’m just going by what the timer says.”

The Captain harrumphed and peered out the door, beckoning Alison to join him. She did, looking out across the driveway to where he pointed at the gate.

“That’s my problem,” he said, waggling his finger. “The terrain switches from concrete to gravel. If you could just pave over the driveway then I’m quite sure I c– hello.”

The Captain’s tone changed abruptly and Alison raised an eyebrow. “Hello?” she replied, bewildered.

“No, no, not you,” Cap replied, pointing down the driveway again. “Look, over there. It’s a cat.”

Alison squinted and saw that the Captain was quite right. Trotting up the driveway towards the open door, mewing quietly, was a little cat. It was jet black with bright yellow eyes and looked a little tatty with its scraggly fur. As it got closer, Alison could see that its ribs jutted out from under its skin slightly. The cat looked happy enough, but it was very clearly a stray, or badly neglected at the very least.

It stopped just in front of the Captain and sat primly, looking up at him with its eyes squinted serenely.

“Can cats see ghosts?” Alison asked him.

“It would appear so,” he returned. With a painful-sounding cracking of his knees, the Captain crouched down in front of the cat and regarded it. The cat stared back, blinking happily up into the Captain’s face. It attempted to bat at the Captain’s swagger stick, which was hanging from his hands, but its paw went straight through.

“Yep,” Alison said, “it can see you.”

It didn’t appear the Captain was listening to her, because a moment later he pointed his stick at the cat and said, “Now you listen here. It is improper to try and touch a Commanding Officer’s person or belongings. Had you been a soldier – or indeed able to touch me – I should have you punished.”

“Captain, it’s a cat, it can’t understand you,” Alison told him.

He stood up again, knees creaking audibly. “Yes, well. That hardly matters – I am a senior officer and I– oh dear, good Lord, what is it doing now?”

The cat was purring, attempting to rub itself against the Captain’s legs lovingly, but simply passing right through, which only seemed to make it more determined to show the Captain its love. The Captain began to gag, reminding Alison of the ghosts’ inability to touch living things without feeling sick. Quickly, she scooped the cat into her arms and held it close – the Captain stopped his gagging, but the cat continued to purr, nuzzling at Alison’s face.

“It’s very affectionate,” she said through all the fur blocking her face.

“Quite,” returned the Captain, voice a touch more gentle than usual. “Do you think it has a home of its own?”

Alison stroked the cat and frowned. “If it does then it’s not a very good one. Look, you can see all its bones, the poor thing hasn’t eaten in ages. And look at its fur, it’s disgusting. And it stinks.” The cat stopped purring momentarily as if offended. “Sorry.”

“Well,” the Captain said, assuming his usual military-man stance, bouncing once on the balls of his feet, back straight, stick tucked under his arm. “If this creature is in need then perhaps we should provide a home for it.”

“What? No, we can’t do that. Captain, the house is more than full already, we can’t add a cat to the mix.”

“During the war we never left a soldier behind!”

“This is a cat, not a soldier. I’m sure it’ll find a home eventually, just not here.”

As she said it, the cat laid its head upon her shoulder, purring again, eyes closed. It appeared it had decided that in Alison’s arms was the perfect place to go to sleep. Alison had always been a cat person and wanted nothing more than to cuddle the cat, even though it was probably riddled with disease and it stank like rot, but she knew if she did that then the cat would start thinking that Button House was its home. It would start coming back and they couldn’t have that. So with a heavy heart, she gently placed it down on the floor.

“Sorry,” she said to it as it looked up at her sadly. “I’ll feed you just this once because you look like you need it, but that’s it. Right, Captain?”

The Captain muttered something under his breath as he often did when he felt put out, then turned on his heel and left, stretching the way he liked to after his morning run. Alison went the opposite direction, leading the cat to the kitchen to find it something to eat.

It was halfway through the plate of tuna she had laid down for it when Mike came in. He looked down at it, then to Alison, then back at the cat before saying bewilderedly, “I don’t remember getting one of those.”

“That’s because we _don’t_ have one,” Alison told him. She watched fondly as it ate its food – it clearly hadn’t eaten in months judging by the way it wolfed the fish down. “This is a stray, it followed the Captain in this morning after his run.”

“Uh huh,” Mike said slowly, sitting down to watch the cat too. “So why is it in our kitchen?”

“I’m feeding it.”

“Yes, I can see that. Why though?”

“Because,” Alison said emphatically, picking the cat up as it wandered absently towards her, then turning it to face Mike. She held its paws in her hands and wiggled them back and forth like a bad puppeteer. “Look at it! It needed some sort of food otherwise the poor thing would probably die. It’s not like we’re going to keep it, I just wanted to make sure it lived.”

“You remember what happened to my Auntie Barbara,” Mike replied. “She accidentally adopted so many neighbourhood strays that her house was practically overrun with them. And then what happened to her? She died. Because she was allergic to cats and there was so many that it killed her.”

“I never understood why she fed them and stroked them in the first place if she was so allergic,” Alison returned, to which Mike shrugged. “But it doesn’t matter anyway. We aren’t keeping it.”

“We don’t get to decide that,” Mike said, “the cat does.”

The cat, from its place nestled on Alison’s lap, meowed in agreement.

“Well, if it shows up again, we just won’t let it in. Agreed?”

“Agreed. We can’t afford another mouth to feed. It is cute though,” he admitted.

“It is, isn’t it?”

Despite how adorable the cat was, Alison let it out the front door. She watched as it obediently walked away, tail a little higher than it had been before, looking healthier and perkier. She knew she shouldn’t have been hoping it would come back, but a little part of her didn’t want to say goodbye.

Luckily, she didn’t have to. The very next morning, she opened the door to let the Captain in from his run (“Two minutes and thirty seconds, Captain, but I think you knew that already.”) and hot on his tail came the cat, smiling as obviously as a cat could.

In spite of her better judgement, Alison took the cat into the kitchen again and fed it once more. She knew she shouldn’t have been, but she was already growing very attached to it. Despite its awful smell and awful condition, she felt a soft spot for it. Absently, she wondered if she should take it to a vet, just to get it checked over and see if it had a home. But she was snapped out of her thoughts by one of the loudest things known to mankind – Lady Fanny Button.

“What on _Earth_ is that _disgusting_ creature doing in _my_ house?!” she shrieked, pointing wildly at the cat, which kept eating its food just as peacefully as before.

“Relax, Fanny, I’m just feeding it,” Alison explained.

“Whyever are you doing that? That creature is clearly a stray, probably riddled with fleas, and you’ve brought it into this house like it’s nothing! It’s going to defile this beautiful house and you shall be the one to blame for it, Alison. I want it gone at once!”

“Fanny, it’s not doing anything, okay? Calm down, look, it’s just having something to eat, it needs it.”

“It is a very small step from eating to… to _defecating_ , young lady!” Lady Button retorted. “I shall not have that thing in my house, ruining everything! Take it away.”

“I thought you liked animals,” Alison tried. “You had Dante when you were alive.”

“Dante was a well-behaved, loving, healthy, clean dog. He was not some stray we just picked up off the street one day because we felt like it!”

“Well,” Alison said, “to be fair, we haven’t picked up the cat because we feel like it, it kind of invited itself in.”

“If anything that makes it worse,” Fanny yelled, sounding appalled. “Not only does it smell ghastly and look unseemly, but it is rude as well. It clearly has no manners. I will not ask again, Alison, take the cat out of this house!”

At that moment, the cat finished eating and turned around to try and bat at the hem of Lady Button’s dress. Though it couldn’t touch it (for obvious ghostly reasons), Fanny screamed and took a few paces back. She started yelling more nonsense at Alison, something along the lines of ‘get it out’ and then ran straight through the wall, out of the kitchen.

Sighing, Alison heaved the cat into her arms, took it through the house again and let it out through the front door just like the previous day. She watched it wander away once more, though this time it stopped in the middle of the driveway to wash its leg briefly. She shut the door behind it and got on with the rest of her day.

It wasn’t until the next day, day three, that Alison realised that the cat situation was likely going to become permanent. When she opened the door for the Captain, he did not run in as usual, so she peered out of the door and saw him crouched in the middle of the driveway, attempting to pet the cat but failing miserably because each time his hand passed right through and he gagged.

She watched for a minute, stifling her laughs so that the Captain didn’t hear her and realise she was watching which would likely make him stop. Soon she was joined by someone else.

“Good morning, Alison,” Kitty said, bounding up to her, smiling as brightly as ever. “How are you today? Oh look – the Captain has made a friend!”

Alison chuckled. “He has. It looks like they’re getting on very well.”

Kitty gasped excitedly then said, “It’s a cat. That means it’s a kitty, just like me!” And without further ado, she skipped over to join the Captain and the cat. The Captain looked mildly disgruntled, their moment having been interrupted, but he smiled as soon as the cat started purring, trying to bat at his swagger stick again and jumping at the bows on Kitty’s dress.

A moment later, Mike joined Alison. He looked out at the cat, watching as it jumped and played with what would seem like nothing to him.

“Are there ghosts out there with it?” he asked Alison.

“Yep,” she returned, popping the ‘p’. “Cap and Kitty. They’ve really taken a shine to it.”

“Well, like I said,” Mike replied, “it is really cute, I don’t blame them. Have any of the others met it yet?”

“Only Lady B,” Alison told him. He raised an eyebrow and she continued, “She wasn’t a fan.”

Mike hummed and a silence fell between them. Alison had been thinking more frequently that they really should take it to a vet. Even though it was happy and eating properly when she fed it, getting it checked over wasn’t a bad idea. It didn’t mean they had to adopt it – it just meant that they could have peace of mind knowing it was alright.

She was just about to say this to Mike, but he got in first and said, “I think we should keep it.”

“What?” she replied, shocked. “Why? Two days ago you were worried it was going to kill you.”

“No,” he said, “I just suggested that it’s a possibility we can’t rule out. But you clearly like it, and I think it’s cute, and if the ghosts like it then maybe it’ll – I don’t know – like, placate them a little.”

“They’re not dangerous, they don’t need placating,” Alison said. “Is this just the same as when you said we should get Netflix to ‘appease’ them after they’d finished watching every DVD we own?”

“No,” he said, sounding too affronted to be telling the truth. “Plus, we won’t be caring for it on our own, will we? We’ve got eight extra pairs of eyes to keep a lookout for it. So we can all look after it, it won’t be just us.”

“Only one of those ghosts can touch anything,” Alison told him. “We’ll still have to clean up its poo and stuff like that. And you’re terrible with poo.”

“Yeah, that’s why you’ll be on poo duty.”

“No. If we’re adopting this cat then we’re sharing poo duty. That’s the price you have to pay.”

The both of them turned to watch the Captain and Kitty playing with the cat again. It jumped up to try and grab the feathers in Kitty’s hair and she giggled delightedly.

“Alison,” she called, “it’s so lovely! Come and play with us, please!”

She turned to Mike. “Okay. We’re keeping it then.”

He tore his gaze away from the cat and smiled. “Yeah. Why not? Let’s do it.”

“Great,” Alison said, clapping her hands. “I’ll call the vet, see if they can get us an appointment to make sure it’s all healthy and see if it’s microchipped. I hope it doesn’t already have a home.”

“If it does then we can just get another one,” Mike said, slipping an arm around Alison’s shoulders. “There’s a shelter not too far away.”

“I like this cat, though. I want this one.”

“Well, we’d better get that vet appointment to see if we can have it then, hm?”

And so, not four hours later, Alison and Mike made their way back to Button House from the vets, the kitten nestled comfortably in the back seat. Their appointment had gone very well – the cat was in surprisingly good health for a stray, they had got it up to date on its vaccinations, and they had determined the cat didn’t have a home. So, to the couple’s delight, it was allowed to stay at Button House.

The house was unusually quiet when they arrived back. That normally meant that all the ghosts were assembled upstairs partaking in one of Pat’s clubs or another. There was the faint sound of scattered applause as Alison walked through the front door – one of them had probably finished giving a speech.

She gently put the cat down on the floor as Mike shut the front door behind them.

“Right, missy,” she said. The vet had also confirmed that the cat was a girl and about six months old. “Welcome home!”

The cat meowed and trotted off down the hallway, seemingly in search of the source of the clapping. Alison wandered after it, and the cat led her upstairs to the common room. She found the ghosts all gathered around together, most of them on the sofa, Julian and Robin by the chess board, and Thomas in full view of all of them, bowing even though their half-hearted applause had long since ceased.

Lady Button was the first to notice the new arrival and she didn’t seem best pleased.

“Alison,” she shouted, standing up and pointing at the cat furiously. “I told you to get rid of that vermin, that vile creature, I do not want it in this house!”

“Now listen here,” interrupted the Captain, brandishing his swagger stick. “That cat happens to be in dire need of our assistance. I think it only right that Alison has brought it inside.”

“And it really is a sweetheart, too, Lady Button,” Kitty gushed.

“You’d probably think a grizzly bear was a sweetheart,” Fanny retorted.

Robin shook his head, saying, “Grizzly bear never sweetheart. Grizzly bear kill my uncle. Was very funny actually.”

“Excuse me,” interjected Thomas, “I still have four more poems I want to perform!”

As happened far too often to be endearing anymore, the ghosts all started yelling over each other, some insisting they get rid of the cat, some insisting it stayed, and Thomas insisting he be allowed to finish his recital. Alison watched them fight, the cat sat at her feet, watching bemusedly too, before finally stepping in after Julian and Thomas started squaring up to one another.

“Alright, alright, enough!” she shouted.

Shouting only worked about half the time, sometimes the ghosts’ arguing would be so loud that Alison couldn’t even hear herself over it – luckily, this time around the ghosts fell silent and looked towards her expectantly.

“Okay,” she said, “everyone just listen to me. Mike and I decided that we’re going to adopt this cat–”

“Outrageous,” interrupted Lady Button. Alison ignored her.

“We’ve taken her to the vets. She’s in perfectly good shape and she doesn’t seem to have a home, so we’re taking her in. She might need a little TLC before she starts looking…”

“Less like a toilet brush?” suggested Julian, eyeing the cat.

Alison frowned. “Before she starts looking _herself_. But we’re keeping her, no objections. Okay? She really is lovely, I promise you all.”

“No, no, no,” shrieked Mary, standing up and joining Lady Button as far away from the cat as they could get. “Al’son, you can’t keeps the pussycat.”

“Why is that, Mary?” Alison asked, trying not to sigh.

“Because you’ll’s be branded a witch!” Mary explained, sounding as if it should have been obvious. “If a woman have a cat then she be a witch! They’ll burns you at the stake! I’d know.”

“Mary, lots of people have cats now and they don’t get burned to death. Alright? And you know I’m not a witch.”

“Oh,” Mary said. “Right. Okay then.”

Without further hesitation she crouched down and smiled at the little cat. It purred and tried to bat at her apron. But it appeared Mary took that as an attempt at attack, so she yelped and ran, hiding behind Kitty.

“You can keeps the pussycat, Al’son, but please keeps it aways from me.”

“If you’re quite finished with the witchcraft nonsense,” said the Captain, stepping forward, “then might I ask if this cat has a name?”

“Oh,” Alison said, “well, Mike and I were going to brainstorm later this evening–”

“That seems hardly fair,” Cap returned. “We all live here, we should all name it.”

“Yes,” said Kitty, bouncing up and down. “I think we should call her Princess Snuggles.”

The Captain laughed. “No, thank you, Katherine, that’s a silly name. I was thinking something more like Major Fuzzyboots.”

“And how, pray tell, is that any less silly than Princess Snuggles?” asked Thomas flatly.

“Well, I don’t see what’s wrong with any classic cat names,” Pat said, peering down at the cat. He stretched his hand out to scratch her head, then looked as if he had to hold back vomit, and withdrew his hand. “Something like Luna or Shadow. Something simple, like.”

“Boring,” Robin remarked. “Should call it Cat. Save trouble.”

“No offense, guys, but I think I’m just going to talk it over with Mike,” Alison decided – the ‘all these names are terrible’ wasn’t spoken aloud but was heavily implied and she was sure they got the picture. “We’ll come up with something. Come on, missy.”

Alison hoisted the cat into her arms and was about to head back downstairs with her, when Julian’s voice piped up from behind and said, “Why not call her Buttons?”

The other ghosts made noises of agreement, which was rare.

“Buttons?” Alison said, looking at the cat. “Well, I suppose she does look like a Buttons. And it’s like Button House! Oh, I love it, nice one, Julian.”

He straightened his tie and suit jacket. “Yes, well, if anyone was going to be the one to solve this – uh – cat naming crisis, well then, I suppose it only makes sense that it were me. It’s not the first crisis I’ve solved, not by any stretch of the imagination. Did I ever tell you all about the time, back in eighty-three, when I…”

Alison didn’t stick around to hear the rest of whatever godawful story Julian was planning on telling. She left the room and headed back downstairs to get Buttons some food and tell Mike they’d decided on a name.

Over the next few weeks, Buttons’ presence in Button House seemed to be almost completely accepted by everyone living there. There had been a few unfortunate incidents and teething problems, but nothing that wasn’t fixable.

The first real problem came two days after Buttons’ adoption. Nobody had been able to find Humphrey’s head, which was predictably detached from his body. Kitty remembered placing it down on the kitchen table, but all they found there was Buttons. Everyone had been searching the house (including Mike, though he couldn’t see Humphrey, and Humphrey’s body, which couldn’t see anything at all) but it hadn’t been until Alison had picked Buttons up that the head had been discovered.

It turned out that Buttons had taken quite a liking to Humphrey and decided to sit on him. The problems arose when Buttons obviously couldn’t sit on Humphrey and instead ended up in him, which obscured the head from view completely. And it didn’t help that Humphrey was allergic, something that apparently hadn’t changed in death. His face was red and his eyes were watering when Alison finally picked up Buttons and freed him.

“Oh, thank goodness for that,” Humphrey breathed. “I’ve been shouting for hours, couldn’t anyone hear me?”

“You must’ve been muffled by Buttons’ fur,” Alison suggested. “Sorry Humphrey, I’ll try to stop that from happening again.”

“Oh, don’t trouble yourself, Alison. It’s alright, really. Well, apart from the allergy, and the sick feeling from having something living touch me. But really, no need to go out of your way.”

Another issue was that Robin just didn’t seem to get on with Buttons. She loved him, clearly – in fact, Buttons seemed to adore everyone in Button House (except Mike, for reasons unknown to anybody) – but one day Alison had walked into the common room to see Robin yelling at the cat.

“Oh, you think you so big, so clever. I kill mammoth. I can easy kill little cat!”

“Woah, hey,” Alison said, approaching the two. Buttons was stood on the chess table, gazing up at Robin with nothing short of adoration in her eyes. “Why are you threatening to kill my cat?”

“Ruin chess game,” Robin huffed, jabbing a finger in Buttons’ direction. She tried to pat it and he grumbled, “Go away.”

“She’s just a cat, I’m sure she didn’t mean to.”

“She did. She jump on table and hit all pieces off. Little guy and horsey on floor, me no pick them up!”

Alison did it for him, picking up the chess pieces and placing them on the squares Robin instructed her to. Buttons quickly lost interest, hopped off the table and left the room.

“And stay out!” Robin called after her.

Thomas didn’t seem to be the cat’s biggest fan either. Alison had a sneaking suspicion that his hatred towards her stemmed from the fact that he had been trying to recite yet another unwarranted love poem to Alison but she’d not been paying attention, instead playing with Buttons. She had caught him seeking his revenge later that day, leaning over Buttons as she slept on the sofa, and whispering what sounded like a demand for her to duel him. Alison had decided to avoid that situation altogether and quickly backed out the room.

The only other ghost who wasn’t totally enamoured with Buttons was Julian, who seemed very indifferent on the whole subject. Though Alison did once catch him practising one of his speeches on the cat, who seemed surprisingly attentive.

But for the most part, Buttons was adored. Many a time, Alison came across the Captain or Pat pretending to stroke her or sitting by her as she slept. Kitty and Mary would play with her (though Mary was still a little wary and periodically asked Buttons if she was a witch in disguise). Even the plague ghosts adored her – she had managed to sneak down to the basement when Mike left the door open once, and the ghosts had tried their hardest to adopt her for themselves. They were happy with the agreement they reached with Alison though, that she would let Buttons down there once a week to visit them all.

The biggest surprise of all came one lazy evening when Alison had been on her way to bed, a sleepy Mike in tow. They had passed through the common room where a fire was dwindling in the fireplace. Buttons was curled up in front of it, sleeping soundly, and watching her with a fond expression on her face was Fanny.

Alison smiled and cleared her throat. Fanny looked round, looking a little startled and embarrassed to be caught gazing at the cat she had been so against.

“Alison,” she said, but didn’t seem to have any words to follow it up with.

“Is she growing on you, then, Fanny?” Alison asked, stifling a yawn.

Fanny turned away, facing Buttons again, and said, “Well. She’s certainly no Dante. But I can admit now that she is rather sweet. I suppose it’s alright that she stays here.”

Alison watched as a small smile grew on Fanny’s face, watching the gentle rise and fall of Buttons’ chest.

“Goodnight, Lady B,” she said.

“Goodnight, Alison.”

From then on, all the residents of Button House treated Buttons as if she were all that mattered, even Robin and Thomas, whose grudges quickly wore off. It seemed that despite the fact that Button House was already full to the brim, adding little Buttons made the house a home.

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this back in February on Tumblr and decided to post it here too. It's my first Ghosts fic and probably the most light-hearted and fun thing I've ever written, so I hope you all enjoyed it!  
> Find me on Tumblr: @yonderlands  
> JatP sideblog: @gaylebcovington


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